Archive for the ‘Miscellany’ Category

Socks, Days 3-6

Monday, August 27th, 2007

It’s been a busy few days.

Scampers (AKA Hell on Paws) did some experimenting with water. He could not figure out for the life of him why the water kept moving away from him when he got closer to look.

Scampers in the Sink

We had a wedding to attend over the weekend followed by debilitating hangovers the next day. Strangely all our photos from the reception look a lot like this one of The Husband.

Wedding Reception Impression

Regardless of all the activity, I worked diligently on the sock project. It’s gotten much easier since I managed to get the thing started.

Day Three — You can just begin to see the start of the pattern near the needles. Look closer, it’s there, I promise.

Sock — Day 3

Day Four’s photo has a special surprise. What’s that little bit in the front sporting white needles? Why that’s sock number two! I’m knitting a sock from each end of the skein now to avoid SSS (Second Sock Syndrome). A horrid condition in which the first sock is finished and then must wait and wait for the second to arrive.

Socks — Day 4

On Day Five you see I had to impale sock two to the skein to keep it out of the way. I also got back to work on the first sock.

Socks — Day 5

And yesterday, Day Six, I had The Husband try on the sock and make some measurements. See that yellow yarn on the left hanging from the sock? Well, I need to knit two inches more from that point before the tough work of the heel and gusset begin.

Socks — Day 6

So are you riveted yet? Hanging on the edge of your seat? I thought so.


Thursday, August 23rd, 2007

Confession time.

I hoard things — usually cash, but I also stockpile stuff. For example, I have an irrational fear of running low on toilet paper, so I buy the 12-packs and store the extra rolls in a container under the bed. The box under the bed also holds the overflow from my trips to Costco. Needless to say I store money in unexpected places around the house. It pleases me to know it’s there… somewhere. See, I don’t always remember creating a cash stash, but it does provide the fun of running across a little pile of money from time to time.

I find life as a human squirrel rather satisfying despite the jeers I receive from my dear, dear spouse.

I recently had to raid my cache of Taco Bell mild sauce packets when faced with a dry taco situation. Here’s what I found among the packets:

Ms. Squirrel

Apparently The Husband found the stash of fast food restaurant condiment packets I hid in a cabinet he rarely opens. And he felt the need to leave snarky evidence that he found my hidey-hole.

I must admit that I laughed until I hurt when I found it. That husband of mine is pretty funny.

Now I’ve got to run and find a new secret location for these condiments.

Knock, Knock

Wednesday, July 11th, 2007

Who’s there?

Large man wearing a tie.

Large-man-wearing-a-tie who?

Large man wearing a tie will sit back on his heels while I am rendered helpless by the adorable boy-child giving me the Jehovah’s Witness spiel.

Who could possibly resist an articulate eight-year old (seriously he was ten-years old tops) dressed in his Sunday best? No one. And that’s why the large man wearing a tie looked unforgivably smug.

I begrudge no one their faith unless they try to push it on me. I am an avowed opponent of proselytization. How can these people who don’t even know my name be so sure I’m in need of saving? If they are so worried about my eternal status, they are welcome to pray for me, but please, please do not involve me.

And I would normally share this point of view with a Christian recruiter, but not a cherubic eight-year old. A child doesn’t need to see how cynical a human can become. A child wouldn’t understand my misgivings about religion.

A well-spoken child deserves my attention because moments like this can shape his belief in his own abilities. A faithful child needs me to listen to him because later in life he’ll need that bedrock of faith to get through the hard times in life.

But grown-ups who send out a child to indoctrinate heathens should know better. They should understand that manipulating someone into hearing the Lord’s word is wrong on a basic level. People have to want that help before they can benefit from it.
So I listened to the wee child. I even took the literature he proffered (my very own copy of the Watchtower!). But it won’t accomplish what they wanted. I’m certainly no closer to God than I was before the visit. I’m just angry and sitting here writing this post on how manipulated I feel and how much I hate how they are manipulating that boy.

Rain of Frogs Forecast for Tuesday

Saturday, April 7th, 2007

Sometimes It Snows in April

Look closely.


Yes, those are snow flurries.

In Fort Worth.

In April.

Broccoli, That’s What!

Friday, March 30th, 2007

What smells like butt?

Evil Evil Broccoli

Old, uncooked broccoli to be exact.

And the stink lingers in the kitchen. It menaced us so badly that I ran pell-mell outside in a downpour to grab our trash can that was only halfway pulled up from the curb so we could banish it from the house.

Broccoli may be good for you, but beware its revenge if you don’t eat it promptly. It’s lethal.

Third Time’s the Charm

Friday, March 9th, 2007

I’ve started, abandoned, started, and abandoned this blog. Let’s see if this time sticks.

I find it depressing how hard it is to get started doing something you know you want to do and will enjoy doing. You see, the point of this blog for me is to start writing again. Not that I’m some fine novelist or anything, I just used to write a lot in school. I loved the process of writing, and it’s something I haven’t done since graduating almost ten years ago.

I know I like writing. I know this is an easy way to write about whatever strikes my fancy and have it read, if only by my best friend S. My writing skills, rusty and creaking writing skills, need exercise. What better exercise than regular writing about things I find interesting? Not writing some essay on the Dewey decimal system or deconstructing some arcane bit of someone else’s scribbles.

So, I’m back on the blog train, hoping my grip is more secure than the last two times. Your comments and critiques are welcome, but please be civil, gentle even, until I polish up my rusty, creaking writing skills.